I arrive in a night bus that leaves me in the station at four a.m., two hours than what I expect. This time I don’t find the hotel I wanted as there’s nobody to ask for directions and I end up in a crappy place sleeping a little bit before going to the Uzbekistan embassy first time of the morning.

I arrive in a night bus that leaves me in the station at four a.m., two hours earlier then I expect. This time I don’t find the hotel I wanted as there’s nobody to ask for directions and I end up in a crappy place sleeping a little bit before going to the Uzbekistan embassy first thing in the morning.

The embassy is on the other side of the city, about 14 kilometres of this concrete plaster of 15 million inhabitants that is Tehran. I get the underground to cross the city  and get a taxi. In the embassy they attend to me immediatly so I decide to take advantage of being north of the city to see Niyaravan palace where Shah Mohammad Reza lived with his family for the last 10 years of government. It’s near the embassy and very far from the hotel.

The palace was not interesting so I don’t show you pictures, it was just ostentatious and exaggerated. The golden phone gives you an idea on how the rest was!

He had a private dentist. With this exaggeration I’m not surprised the people got tired and rebelled. In the picture gallery there was a collection with the same names as in the Peggy Guggenheim collection in Venice but with more modest paintings. I liked a lot a silk lithography from Miró(I think).

This is a picture of another palace I’ve seen on a different day, it was much more beautiful.

I come back towards the hotel, I’m exshausted. I’ve been for hours dragging my feet, I wanted to make profit of my day. In the underground a guy dressed in military clothes comes to talk to me. He’s doing the compulsory military service, he’s annoyed, with the feeling of loosing over a year. He tells me about his life; he likes music, he had a band but it had to be dissolved because “the government get’s into everything” “we are not allowed to do anything”. Soon he get’s into a political debate criticising the government a lot. His more impacting sentence has been “our parents made a revolution for the wrong reason”, It was about to be the title of today’s post. All the people that understand English in the metro car are paying attention, some of them nod their heads in agreement. And I wanted to avoid political conversations…

Between the night of little sleep, the non stop day, the ramadam making it difficult to eat and the intense conversation I’m even more tired. Luckily I’m just three streets away from the hotel. The second street has four or five invisible lines full of cars, more cars, motorcycles, and trucks that come towards me. Looks like the beginning of a race in which they are racing for their lives. I walk on the side waiting for my opportunity to cross.

Seemed impossible but there’s a gap of 50 meters with no cars. I go one step towards the road. I see asphalt two centimetres away from my eye. I think I’ve got a bump hit on my head. My sunglasses slide in the polished asphalt. I see a man rolling next to me. A motorcycle also slides next to his legs. My body stops. I stand up instantly. I review all my joints. Neck fine. Shoulders fine. One elbow fine, the other with a knock but fine. Wrists fine. Knees with a cut but fine. Ankles fine. I’ve got so many crashes rollerblading, kayaking, kitesurfing and in other things that I know my body and I’m nearly sure nothing is too bad.

I get my glasses so no other vehicle smashes them. The runoverer is  bringing his motorbike up. We both say sorry. We don’t insult each other. I haven’t looked when crossing and he must have been very fast and very close to me. Seems that in this street there are motorbikes coming from the wrong side. I leave the place, there’s too many people looking.

In the next cross a woman told me that I’ve been saved thanks to Alah. I ratify what she says “yes, you are right”. Why tell her that thanks to him I’ve also been run over?

I go to the crappy hotel. I diagnose myself that I’m quite OK and prescrive resting. I buy some food and play one of those films I never have time to see.

My pants have got dirty. They are the only long pants I have and here I can’t go in shorts, the Hijab(“modes“ dress code) is both for men and women. I wash it so it get’s dry for tomorrow.

I heal a little wound I have in the leg. The knees are a bit affected, I put some balm to try and relax them and so the cut does not inflame too much. Tomorrow I’ll see if all is fine or not, when I’m cold. Is not that I like to use my first aid kit, but carrying it for nothing was annoying.

When you go for a long trip most of the people think on the dangers and they warm you. Be careful not to be kidnapped, they steal everything but your underwear, you get a tropical illness and die instantly or get into jail not knowing why. All this is quite tragic and improbable. The two main dangers in the less developed countries are twisting your ankle in a hole that populates the badly paved streets. Or what has happened to me, having a traffic accident in the chaos. Fortunately I’m fine, I can walk with no problem and that’s what I need for the trip.

Normally when I cross the street I look both ways like when I’m in a country where they drive on the left so I don’t look to the wrong side, but this time the tiredness has played a drity trick on me.

One of these was the evil culprit. In Iran motorbikes can’t be over 200cc otherwise he’d have gone faster. Also the front part is a flexible plastic so I was not hurt in my head.

There’s something good. I was doubting if going to hike for a few days to Damavand mount. A volcano that is 5671 meters high and is near Tehran. On one side I felt like doing it, I’ve never gone up such a high mountain. On the other as it’s an accessible mountain there’s a lot of people going so it spoilt the idea for me. Now after the crash I have it clear I’m staying In Tehran relaxing.

To complete the post I add another urban thing. Do you remember that paint on the wall in Georgia that said “Parkour”? If you don’t remember, it doesn’t matter. And if you don’t know what it is, this video from Heidar’s(my kayak guide) brother will show it to you. It’s recorded in some of the most important Esfahan sites and the level is super good, for me as the French Parkour, where the movement was born.

In the next post more about Tehran. Ah! I’m perfectly fine, my knees are fine.

Fernando

The question of which was the first monotheist religion would probably stun anyone, and it’s not strange, even the possibility that Zoroastrism is the first, it seems that not all the experts agree.

The question of which was the first monotheist religion would probably stun anyone, and it’s not strange, even the possibility that Zoroastrism is the first, it seems that not all the experts agree. The step to monotheism was a revolution, an advance in the settling of mystical thinking, a better explanation of the world, the human being, and of course, of God. Now there were not many deities, only one, a God that is an all powerful being, creator of the universe. The idea has stayed for over 3000 years and is reflected in the most strong religions that have lasted until today such as Islam and Christianity. After the zoroastrism was created, no other new religion was ¨¨polytheistic¨¨.

It was founded in ancient Persia where it was the official religion. Currently it has 2.6 million followers in Iran, India, Afghanistan, some other Central Asia countries and small comunities all around the world. Christianity has 2.1 billion and Islam has over 1.8 billion.

I go by car through the desert, I enjoy it, nearly all my moves in Iran are by night bus because Iran is very big but this time I want to see the landscape, it’s a new thing for me.

I see sand, a lot of sand, mountains of greyish colours and little tornados that rise before disappearing. I go to Chak Chak; the most important pilgrimage Zoroastrian place in Iran. During the annual festival from 14 to 18 June thousands of Zoroastrians come here.

The interior of this little fire temple of Pier-eSabz with a the non-stop flames at the back. The Zoroastrians pray towards light, this was the first light source know by civilization.

Zoroastrism is full of surprising things, it’s influence in later religions, it’s current state, it’s symbolisms, the relation with the elements and that even they’ve lost their scripts, the doctrine is still alive. It’s no doubt a set of solid ideas, and maybe that’s why it’s lasted so many centuries, it’s surprising that in Iran there are still followers even with the domination of Islam. Possibly it lasts for that reason, for being a truly advanced religion; monotheistic.

Zoroastrism is a dualist religion, this means that it understands there is an eternal fight between the good and the evil. I like the image that this shapes in my mind. Some of the teachings that I’ve liked the most are this:

– Happiness is a by product of a way of living. And happiness is for those who work for the happiness of others

– Good Thoughts, Good Words, Good Deeds.

– Who fears God, does not know God.

– God is Wisdom Love and Logic.

– Man is not sinful, fallen or depraved. No comparison with the Greek gods I talked about a few months ago.

Zarathustra was the founder of the religion. The majority of his writing has been lost, same as the language in which it was written, the Avestan.

Ehh… I hope they don’t check.

Back to Yazd we stop to see two more things. The first is a pigeon tower, this had to be one of the most disgusting places on earth. They built this towers for pigeons to live in. there were 4000. The objective was collecting the manure to fertilize fields… How bad would the smell be!

The second we see is an ice hose. Outside there are two small pools where ice was created during winter. The ice was stored here in a way that it was sold during summer. It was a luxurious possession.

Mybod city built with mud bricks.

Pomegranates, a symbol from the country.

A caravansary with small rooms that were rented by merchants. In the middle a place to unload the camels so they could rest.

The caravanseray has a carpet museum. This man is weaving one.

In the centre of the square there is a quanat that brings water from the mountains. Yazd is other of place that claim to be the longest living settlement on earth just like Damascus and Erbil. Marco Polo described it as a splendid city. Years later it became famous for its silk. I go to see the water museum, explains all imaginable about quanats that were underground chanels built to collect water from the mountains and take it to villages and cities. The quanats could be hundreds of kilometres long and more than 100 meters deep.

This is a badg-ir from the inside. The tower is divided in two, one to collect the fresh water and the other to take out the warm one. To demonstrate that it works, a guy threw a piece of paper that flew up pushed by the air.

In Yazd city and desert are the same colour. When I was in Iraq I had no time to see a temple in which Yazidsm religion was practised, a religion I didn’t know about that believes in reincarnation, archangels and other things. I regretted having lost the opportunity so this time I didn’t want to loose anything Zoroastrian near by. The first time I heard consciously about the religion was in Mumbai two years ago. Apart from the doctrine, what is more surprising for us that don’t know about the religion are the towers of silence. In Mumbai they are closed to non believers but here I have been able to visit them.

In the outskirts of Yazd, on top of two mounts are built these towers of silence. The Zoroastrians could not burn their dead as they’d contaminate the air. The could neither bury them as they’d contaminate the earth, sacred elements for them.

So they would leave the bodies here in the heights so the vultures would clean the bones. In Iran which is the opposite to Mumbai they don’t use the towers any more and they bury them in concrete coffins so the earth does not get dirty.

Without realizing my site seeing time in Iran is coming to an end. I need to go to Tehran to get Uzbekistan visa and I have no more days as the time to get to Turkmenistan is fixed.

I try to get a taxi to the bus station but I end up in a car that tries to sell me any kind of alcoholic drink. He takes me to the bus station for free.

In the bus station a guy comes to talk to me, by now this does not surprise me. While we chat I see another young guy come around but as I’m talking with the first guy he’s waiting. A bit later I see another more guy waiting around. This is too much! There is a queue!. I end up talking with all of them separately until I get to the bus. My seat buddy plays in the waterpolo team and has meet the Spanish team in competitions.

The bus starts moving.

Will Tehran be as chaotic as I imagine?

I’ll tell you soon.

Fernando

The name is suggestive. You feel like going to see what was the great Persian empire at its peak that’s why I put it in my itinerary for the trip.

Before going to Persepolis we stop to see these tombs carved in rock.

And finally we arrive.

The winged lions welcoming us.

Construction started in 518 and lasted 150 years.

Persepolis is near Shiraz(the same name as an Australian grape) so the best thing is to find a tour here so they take you to the ruins, in that way you go with more people and they tell you stories. I met an Italian guy that gave me a lot of info for Uzbekistan and an English guy that likes flying in different planes, one of the reasons for him to be in Iran was that there was a flight from Tehran-Beijing in a mini jumbo, this plane does not operate in Europe any more. Another one for his collection.

I like the lion.

The features are very detailed and everywhere you can see sculpted figures of the different tribes that the Persian empire dominated.

Persepolis is interesting for its meaning , what you see, is beautiful but once there it’s not very impressive, the centuries that have past since it was built and the remsacking of Genghis Khan and Tamerlane have left little standing.

But not all Persepolis is an ancient story. In 1971 Shah Mohammad Reza Phalavi(the last Shah) held a sumptuous party in the Persepolis ruins to commemorate the 2500 anniversary of the Persian empire. It’s said to be the beginning of the end, many people became infuriated with the waste of money(it’s estimated he spent over 100 millionEuro). Some other people say that put Iran on the map as government leaders from all around the world were invited and it brought amazing revenues in tourism for the next few years.

In Shiraz I met this guy in the market. He was a nice guy a bit of a renegade of life, he didn’t stop complaining about absolutely everything, took me around and showed me a few things. He also proposed to show me around next day but I had no time.

I eat a camel stew, it’s cooked with spices and I dip until the last drop of sauce. May have given give me a hump?

The other Persepolis is the comic. In 2001 the Iranian artist Marjane Satrapi created an autobiographic comic. It tells the recent history of Iran based on her life with the revolution and Iran-Iraq war as the time frame. If you have not read it, you want to have some fun, learn and review Iran history, I’d tell you go and buy it right now, it’s easy to find it in bookshops or comic shops. I’ve read it all non stop.

I put here some of the pictures so you get and idea on how it is.

It starts when she was a little girl, the revolution was starting that is when the Shah was removed and the religious power was imposed. It is funny that by this time Marjane wants to be a prophet when it’s something only possible for men. Transcript: – We didn’t like too much wearing the scarf, specially not understanding why. It’s too warm. Execution for freedom. I’m the shadow monster. Return my scarf. You’ll have to convince me. Soooo.

A revolution was needed because the Shah was not doing things well, however not everybody agreed on transferring the power to a religious power.

– Stop there. Are you saying we don’t know how to educate our kids?

– Mrs, we are in war. There are a lot of kids that don’t go to school. Your’s are fortunate! So you should obey!

– Obey to hit themselves twice a day? – To go covered from head to feet? – So they can’t play with boys their age? – Oh!

– Anyway that’s what it is. They obey the rules or we’ll expel them.

– An they have to wear the scarf properly…

– If the hairs are as exciting as you say, why don’t you shave your moustache? My father said that.

To get into the art faculty, apart from the tests, there was am art test. I was sure one of the points would be an army drawing. For sure! So I got ready copying Michel Angelos’s “Pietat”. That day I reproduced it adding a black chador to Virgin Mary, an army dress to Jesus and adding two tulips to the sides so there would be no confusion. – I was very satisfied with the drawing. – It’s said that the blood of martyrs grows red tulips.

The dead were converted into martyrs and used as propaganda.

The war with Iraq was a massacre, 19 year old kids were sent to the front line knowing that they would die.

– Do you see this? – Yes, it’s a plastic golden key.

– My son has been given it in school. They have been told that if they are lucky to die fighting, they’ll find paradise with this key.

– My god! – Come, cry, vent your frustration. – I go to prepare a tea.

What was wondering in peoples heads during the day to day life.

The regime had understood that if a person left home thinking… Are my pants long enough? – Do I have the scarf properly set? – Is my make up seen? – Will they whip me? – They didn’t ask themselves any more. – Where are my thoughts on freedom? – Where is my expression of freedom? – Is my life bearable? – What happens in the political prisons? – Normal. When you are scared you loose the capacity to analyse and reflect. Our fear blocks us. That’s why fear has always been the engine of repression and dictatorships. – Show the hair or having make up became the logic in rebellious acts.

Rivers always tell stories, on it’s s banks there’s people living, things happen. Kayaking you can see the villages, then hanging bridges, the women washing clothes in the banks, people with their dresses and the day to day life.

We were based in Maadan, a little village, it had three little food shops, a school, a mosque and… and… a river… There is no gas station so you have to fill up the tank with a can to continue.

The kids play in the river, it seems they spend all day here, and it’s how it is during summer. These kids are lucky, at least they have this entertainment, a village that small in the middle of the desert with no river has to be the most boring thing for a kid. The floating system is just great.

One afternoon we went to see the sulphurous waters from a spring, the water was so clear that you cannot really see it in the picture. We were near a National Park.

The green of the paddy is what I’ve found specially captivating, they were growing with a strong red that seemed like they were growing just at the same time we were kayaking, I took hundreds of pictures of them. When the wind blows it is a show in itself seeing how the wind moves from field to field.

Yes, I know, this is the same image as in the video, but as I’ve liked that mountain I put it anyway.

A panoramic of Heidar going down the river. We had just been helping two men to recover a net they had trapped in the middle of the river.

One afternoon I played some Spanish music for Heidar, I wanted to show him that the Spanish music was more than Enrique Iglesias so I played a lot of different stuff for him, to complete the thematic Spanish evening we finish watching the film Vicky Christina Barcelona in where you can see the Barcelona city very well so I can tell Heidar some more stuff about Spain with some context.

In this area women do not wear black chador, They go covered, but with a traditional dress with very lively colours. Picture is very bad, I know, but it was impossible for me to get a better picture, I didn’t wanted to offend them taking the picture.

Kids with black colour as only Iranians have.

There are no kids having a swim, there are also men fishing with nets and men working on the paddy fields, as the one that invited us to have fish yesterday. They called us initially because it was a surprise for them to see us in a kayak, then their surprise got bigger to see that someone from that far had come here, for them I was as exotic as them for me.

The most talkative man asked me how waould his village compare with the ones in Spain. I explained to him as much as possible some differences without offending his humble village, he told me he wanted to compare how his government treat them.

The second question was more direct: “Why does your governments dislike our government?”. Me innocent, after having been several days in the city hearing constant complaints about the government answered sincerely(and in a simplified way): “Because your government does not give you freedom”. All this with the help of Heidar that was a neutral translator.

They told me that they had complete freedom, that, in fact they were one of the most free countries. I’ve met a follower of the regime! Those votes have to come somewhere. For him that women have to wear a scarf is not a lack of freedom, it is good for her, the religion says so and they are Muslims. That a guy wants to meet a friend(girl) is not bad, it means she’s a whore and it’s not good. Like this there were some other explanations.

For me his way to see things is not bad itself, he seemed to think it all genuinely, and that’s how religion is, you believe in it with the faith and you follow the set rules.

It was Ramadan and the man had been eating grilled fish. I don’t blame him, it was really good and working in the paddy fields must make you hungry. Also he was smoking, it was not tobacco, it was something that was not banned but I was told that made you stoned and it was addictive and not well seen, it may be an opium type of thing. I don’t know if it was related but he had a shaking fit in his hand that would have scared Catherine Hepburn. He was smoking it burning it with a hot metal stick and inhaling the smoke by a wood tube that he put near the “tobacco“.

Islam prohibits drinking because its bad for your body: “don’t hurt your body”. In the west smoke it is seen as worse than drinking(kind of it’s like that in society, isn’t it?). I guess this man was skipping this part because he liked smoking, you don’t need much to know that smoking also harms your body.

The man was incongruous for me, there were things where Islam had to be followed and others that were not. As a coincidence, the ones that didn’t have to be followed were the ones that were nice for him. He seemed to be indoctrinated, he knew the answers to my arguments, he was impermeable to any influence.  I guess the prohibition of foreign TV(satellite is banned) works, they can only see state tv in which they are half of the time praying or sermoning.

The upper section we kayak had a canyon with a totally flat wall.

In the quiet canyon.

Before coming back to Esfaha, we wen’t to visig Heidar’s cousin, that invited us to a chicken kebab marinated in yogurt mmmmmmmm. In the picture hot water with sugar, the colour comes form the saffron that the sugar has. After all day fastening it’s good for the stomach.

In the picture some ramadam sweets that are eaten after the water and before dinner. To my surprise they do normal dinners. I had in my mind the idea from school times that after all day without eating they had a real feast all night eating a lot.

We came back to Esfahan, once again Heidar’s family hospitality gave me a place to sleep and a home made dinner. Before going to the night bus I went for a famous saffron ice-cream with Heidar. The new taste made me feel good, lucky, I had one of those “travel moments” where you say….fffffffffffffffff, how great it is being here!

The bus was great, Heidar took me to a super VIP bus with just three seets per row, like business class in a plane. I was equipped with my pullover and a scarf for my mouth to beat the glacier cold. Didn’t want to awake my cold.

Soon from Persepolis.

Fernando